The Talk
by Darkover
Summary: Following the events of the battle in the theater, Darren and Crepsley have a long-overdue talk.


7

Title: "The Talk"

Author: Darkover

Characters: Larten Crepsley and Darren Shan

Rating: K

Disclaimer: As far as I know, the characters of the Darren Shan saga are owned by their author, Darren Shan, and the movie, "Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant" is owned by Universal Pictures. All I know for certain is that I do not own them. But I am not making any money off of this, and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so please do not sue.

Spoilers: The entire movie.

Author's Note: This story is based on the depiction of Darren and Crepsley as they are portrayed in the movie version of "The Vampire's Assistant." IMHO, the characters—particularly Crepsley—are far different in the movie version than they are in the books, so please bear that in mind. Otherwise, enjoy this story, and please read and review!

Summary: Following the events of the battle in the theater, Darren and Crepsley have a long-overdue talk.

Thanks to the vampiric ability to flit—an ability that Darren now shared—all three of them: Darren, Crepsley, and Rebecca—covered the distance between the Theater and the Cirque du Freak in a matter of minutes. Rebecca jumped down from Crepsley's back, said; "Thanks, guys," as if nothing had happened, and ran into the waiting arms of her friends. There was a momentary hubbub as greetings and hugs were exchanged. Both Darren and Crepsley held back, watching.

"She acts as if nothing happened," Darren said wonderingly.

"Well, she always did have more aplomb than you," Crepsley said dismissively, and turned away.

"Crepsley," Darren began; the vampire paused, half turned, looking back at him. "I—uh—thanks for coming after me. Thanks for everything. You didn't have to do that," he concluded awkwardly.

The vampire's red eyebrows shot up. "Oh, I didn't? You think you could have handled Murlaugh, Mr. Tiny, and all his vampaneze thugs all by yourself, do you?"

"No—yes—I mean, I would have done whatever I had to do!" Darren cried, feeling flustered, as he so frequently did in the presence of Mr. Crepsley. "And I did, didn't I? I fought Steve!"

"You were only able to do so because your little girlfriend offered you some of her blood," Crepsley retorted. "If you weren't so stubborn, you could have been drinking human blood long before now, and you wouldn't have been so weak and vulnerable." Again, he turned and started to walk away.

"Why are you like this?" the boy's voice, ragged and unusually loud, rang out. Crepsley stopped, and he turned around, although slowly for a vampire. The boy's face was white in the darkness—he still hasn't fed enough, Crepsley noticed automatically—and his eyes were large and blinking. He seemed to be fighting back both anger and tears.

"Like what?" Crepsley demanded, expecting a wave of invective to come crashing down on him. He would not have been surprised, or particularly offended. The boy had been though a lot this evening. But what Darren said next astonished him.

"You—you take care of me. You look out for me. Sure, you give me a lot of stupid chores to do, but you don't overwork me or anything. Sometimes, I think it's just to keep me busy. You've been protecting me. Tonight, you even risked you life for me. But you act like you don't like me at all. Like—like I'm an annoyance, and you think I'm stupid." The boy was actually shaking now, although whether with anger, or fear at his own audacity in talking to a vampire this way, Crepsley could not tell.

"I don't think you're stupid," was all he could think of to say.

"Then why do you—aw, never mind." Now it was Darren who turned away. "Just forget it."

"Darren," Crepsley said, perhaps more sharply than he meant to, for the boy stopped dead and spun around, eyes wide. The red-haired man tried again. "If you have something on your mind, tell me what it is."

"You're so—sarcastic all the time. Critical. You don't like me." There was not a trace of self-pity in the boy's tone; it was matter-of-fact, which somehow made the words almost like blows. "I think I'm not the kind of assistant you wanted, but you still keep me on because you want to have somebody you can boss around. You're a big control freak, and you want to control me."

Crepsley's lips twisted. "Darren, I am indeed a freak, but I'm not a control freak."

"Come on!" The boy was unbelieving. "Why else were you so determined to make me drink human blood?"

"I've already made that clear!" Crepsley snapped. He *did* like the boy, had actually become fond of him, but by God, the child was insufferable at times! "You need to drink human blood, or you'll die! What possible reason, other than driving me insane, did you have *not* to drink it?"

The boy mumbled something, too low even for a vampire's hearing.

"Speak up!"

"I—I was afraid that if I started drinking from humans," Darren said softly, his eyes downcast, "that I would lose whatever was making me human. I mean—I just don't like to hurt people. It would be wrong for me to use them for my own purposes."

Crepsley was speechless. All this time, he had just assumed the boy was being stubborn. And the boy had just assumed that he, Crepsley, was controlling. With a shake of his red head, he started to laugh, continuing until tears came to his eyes, thinking; We have both been such fools….

The boy stared at him.

"Oh, Darren." He went to the boy, placing a hand on Darren's shoulder. "The thoughts that go though your head sometimes…"

"What do you mean?" the youngster asked, confused.

"Nothing," Crepsley said aloud, although he was thinking; I should have realized. A boy as kind, and as innocent, as you are, would never willingly hurt anyone. I should at least have suspected you were holding back for such a reason. "Nothing at all. Darren, when we feed regularly, we take what amounts to only a few spoonfuls of blood from a person. This does not hurt them, not at all. They won't even remember it. It does not make you a bad person. Do you believe me?"

"Yeah," Darren said softly. "I do now."

"Good." The vampire gave his ward a brisk pat on the shoulder, then withdrew his hand. He paused; Darren was still looking down at the ground. "Is there anything else you're worried about?"

Darren lifted his head, looking directly at Crepsley. "Yeah. What Mr. Tiny said. Am I going to have to battle Steve?"

"That's a matter for another day, Darren." He waved a hand impatiently when the boy started to object. "That's all I can tell you for now. We have more immediate concerns. I want you to feed again tomorrow night; you haven't had enough blood, and it's important that you be in the best shape you can be from now on." When his young ward nodded reluctantly, Crepsley told him; "Listen. I admit I'm not used to children. Even the best of them get on my nerves. But I'll make a deal with you. If you'll try harder to do as you're told, I'll try to be a little more patient." Being Crepsley, he couldn't resist adding; "That's all I can promise, though. I'm not suddenly going to be all sweetness and light."

It was Darren's turn to burst out laughing at that. "I didn't think you would. You're a big, bad vampire, after all."

"Hey, let's see how easygoing you are after two hundred years or so, kid," his vampire mentor countered. Together, they walked back to the Cirque du Freak, where their tents, and their friends, awaited them.


End file.
